


Desert Rose and The Prince

by j_gabrielle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And character death, Forbidden Love, Harem, M/M, Slight torture, but not our psycho!lovers, concubine!Will, it was supposed to be a drabble, prince!Hannibal, this is the effect of listening to too much Selena Gomez's Come And Get It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I told you to wait for nightfall.” He whispers as clever fingers reach out to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Rose and The Prince

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble ;A;

The soft pad of feet on cool marble floors announces his arrival. Hannibal does not stop in sharpening his sword; a dull blade makes a man dead, after all.

“Did anyone see you?” He asks, picking a cloth to wipe at the steel. He does not turn, and he knows that this irks his guest but it cannot be help. The walls have ears and the trees have eyes, and even though most of the palace is enjoying their siesta, Hannibal must not alert any eavesdroppers to the person currently shielded by the shadows. Even though they are in one of the lesser courtyards of the palace, they cannot be too paranoid about the clandestine quality of their meetings.

“I was careful, don’t worry.” The guest answers shortly, annoyed.

He scoffs at that. Setting his blade aside, he moves to wash from the fountain beside him. Tiled with the best hand painted tiles from the southern craftsmen, it is smaller than the others that dot the inner sanctums and private quarters of the sultan, his queen, concubines and various members of court that inhabit the palace. But Hannibal likes this one for its’ little paintings of flowers that do not bloom in the middle of the desert, the little things from his mother’s homeland that he has only seen in his dreams.

Casting a cursory glance around him, he slips into a tongue that only he and the guest speaks. “Worry is not a feeling I can forget while I live in these walls.”

There is a quick swish from his right, and he moves briskly. The guest is standing behind a vine covered pillar, moulding his body into the line of the shadow. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he notes that his guest is dressed in simple billowy silk pants, barefooted with a thin cotton tunic that does little to hide the contours of the body underneath. Unadorned save for the gold earring on his left ear, the guest could pass for a servant. “I told you to wait for nightfall.” He whispers as clever fingers reach out to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.

“I’m sorry.” The guest apologises, panting harshly when they separate. Pressing their bodies close, Hannibal moves his hand to brush away a stray curl that has fallen over greyish-blue eyes lined with black kohl. “But I had to see you…”

“I know, my love. I know.” He sighs against kiss swollen lips. “But you of all people know why we must be careful. We cannot let anyone suspect us.”

The guest huffs a breath, drawing himself away. This movement causes the shawl around his head to fall away, revealing the face of an angel. “I _know_ alright?” He hisses, suddenly angry. “Do you not think I worry about my safety? About yours? I _worry_ with every breath I take, with every moment I am trapped in these walls! Look at what happened with Bella! Look at what they did to her just because she loved another man. Goddess above, _I did not ask for this_!” He chokes, tears welling up. The angry flush of his cheeks are bright even in the shadow. “I did not ask for this…” He repeats softly in half a sob.

“I did not mean to upset you, my dear William. I am sorry.” Hannibal moves to pull the man back into his arms, rubbing his back to calm him down. “I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Everyone in the palace knew what had happened to the 45th concubine and her lover, and many like his William were forced to watch as she was burnt alive with her lover, Jack the guard. The Sultan had had him castrated and his eyes gouged—after flaying his back until his skin was left in bloody ribbons. They had shaved her head of the beautiful long dark hair she was so famous for, and in her final moments, she broke free of the ropes that bind her and held her Jack as the palace began to fill with the smell of succulent roasting beef.

William had told him later that night that he had seen her smile as the flames consumed her.

Hannibal knows that Bella had been meant as a warning. She was what could happen if anyone that belonged to the Sultan were to give their heart to anyone else but their lord and Master. Apparently having over a hundred wives and more than a few male lovers in his harem only served to make the man even more possessive over his belongings.

Whether living or dead, once you belong to the Sultan, you can never belong to another--especially if you were beautiful.

And William is certainly the most beautiful of all in the harem.

Hannibal is the lesser son of a lesser concubine with no hopes of being in succession for the throne. It suits him just fine, if truth be told. His mother had died years ago after a vicious wave of blood sickness had taken over the palace, and though Hannibal had tried to save her, she died in his arms choking on her blood.

William had entered the palace around that time, and he had captured Hannibal’s attention from the start. He had been the first new face he’d seen in many moons, and his eyes reminded him of his mother’s. Hannibal had eventually found out that William was the son of a ruling lord that his father had defeated in battle.

The eunuchs had placed him in quarters near his own. A fateful decision, if there ever was one. By the time they’d remembered the young man from a distant land, there was an attraction that was undeniable between them.

“I won’t let it happen to you.” Hannibal swore quietly. “I will fight for you until my last breath. What happened to Bella will not happen to us, I promise.” He tilts William’s face to meet his, “Do you not trust me, my love?”

William swallows, tears still clinging on to his lashes. “You know that I trust you with my life, but even you can’t promise that we--”

“I can and I will.” Hannibal cuts him off, pressing another kiss on his lips. Reassuring. “If you don’t believe in anything else, believe in this. Believe in me.” He takes a slender hand in his, bringing it up to rest against his breast.

He waits until William nods before he pulls him close, holding him tight and drowning himself in him. There are things happening around them as they stood in their little sanctuary.

Plans are being laid out for many in the palace. To the ones he spoke with, the ones he’d only whispered in the wind to, there will be only a small window of chance to take. They will have to be ready for it. Hannibal would miss living in the oasis that he’d called home for so long. He would miss the little reminders of his mother in every corner of his quarters. But if he had to lose William to his father just as he had lost his mother, he fears he could not take it.

Hannibal is prepared to risk it all to be the only one to possess William besides himself.

“Soon, my love. Soon.”

 

 

 

[end.]


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